


the space between your shoulder blades .

by MostlyFandomTrash



Series: even a traitor. [3]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Canon Compliant, Edmund Pevensie-centric, Golden Age (Narnia), He really doesn't deserve this, Mental Breakdown, Other, Panic Attacks, Poor Edmund, but here we are, ed is traumatized by the white witch and we dont talk about it enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25743238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostlyFandomTrash/pseuds/MostlyFandomTrash
Summary: he is and always be atraitor traitor traitorking and nothing will ever change that
Relationships: Edmund Pevensie & Lucy Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie & Lucy Pevensie & Peter Pevensie & Susan Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie & Peter Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie & Susan Pevensie
Series: even a traitor. [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867393
Kudos: 57





	the space between your shoulder blades .

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nutellamuffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutellamuffin/gifts).



he takes in a deep breath and breathes out a puff of steam . it was silly of him to think that winter wouldn ' t come again in narnia -- narnian seasons work the way way english seasons do ; winter , spring , summer , fall -- but that doesn ' t mean that he wasn ' t expecting it . the cold bites into him the same way it had the first time he ' d stepped through a wardrobe after his sister and been drawn into a carriage by the offer of sweets .

the first time he enters into the main courtyard when it ' s covered in snow , his hands shake so badly that he can not hold his blades . his brother prys the weapons from his grip as gently as he is able and tells him to go back inside -- he listens , but his hands do not stop their trembling until he curls them into fists so tight that his nails break through his skin and then , there is only blood . 

his hands stop shaking when his hands start bleeding , but that does not stop the rushing of his thoughts . his hands are bleeding but he presses them against his eyes anyways to try and block out the sight of a pale  _ woman - witch - winter _ with hair and skin and clothes the same shade of pure white as the snow that drifts down from the clouds over cair paravel . he chokes out a sob .

he chokes out a sob because all he can think about is a lion and a stone table and a talk of old magics and a trade for his life because he is and always be a  _ traitor traitor traitor  _ king and nothing will ever change that . the sound echos off the walls of his chamber the same way it did off the walls of the cell she threw him in when she no longer had a use for him .

because she no had a use for him after he lured his brother and sisters to her doorstep , to what was meant to be their deaths . he slides back against his door and crumbles to his floor and finds that he isn ' t really choking on the sobs stuck in his throat but the air trapped in his lungs . he can ' t breath but he thinks that he might scream -- he doesn ' t hear the sound come out of him , but he hears it the same way he might hear someone else scream far down the corridor -- and his door gets shoved open without so much as a knock . his brother is beside him , hands on his shoulders , and saying his name . 

his brother is on the floor beside him , shaking him by the shoulders to  _ be quiet , ed , it ' s okay , you ' re fine _ and his sisters are standing in the doorway telling the guard to  _ get out , we can handle him _ and all he can think about it how bloody cold he is . he ' s cold and he ' s always cold and he ' ll always be cold ; it ' s one of the only things he knows for sure -- he will always be cold , and the smell if sweets will never fail to make him sick to his stomach . he is cold and his fifteenth birthday is in three days and he ' s sitting on the floor of his chambers and he is cold .

maybe that ' s for the best . the  _ witch - woman - winter _ rests in the hollow of his bones and maybe that is for the best -- he ' ll never be able to make the same mistake twice . 


End file.
